


Us - A Mollcroft New Year's Story

by NoShabbyTigers



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mollcroft, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3871138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoShabbyTigers/pseuds/NoShabbyTigers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A proper date, a surprise shopping companion and a starry night high above London. Could New Year's Eve be any more perfect for Molly Hooper and Mycroft Holmes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a sequel to "You - A Mollcroft Christmas Story" so you may want to read that fic first. Should have noted the order when I first posted. Oops!
> 
> More holiday fluff for a Sunday afternoon. Thinking on part three but it may be a while. These short fics are great fun!
> 
> All hail to Steven Moffat and Mark Gattis for creating these wonderful characters.

Us - A Mollcroft New Year’s Story

 

 _All you see are endless skies, like an ocean lit by fireflies_  
 _With a long deep breath, I speak my heart_  
 _Saying things I'm not sure just what they are_  
 _A feeling catches me by surprise_  
 _You can see forever in a lover's eyes_  
  
_I can stop myself but on I go_  
 _Finding feelings I have never known_  
 _There's hope beyond your wildest dreams_  
 _And the feeling is nothing to extreme_  
 _In a flash, tomorrow begins to rise_  
 _You can see forever in a lover's eyes_

_Jim Brickman – Music and Lyrics_

 

Molly was humming to herself as she finished the last of the day’s paperwork. It had been a busy week in the morgue as it always was during the holiday season. Nothing too horrid had come through the door which was a great relief to her as her mood was high and she was really looking forward to the weekend.  She blushed just thinking about Christmas night and the delightful dinner she had had with Mycroft Holmes. A week had passed since that night and though they had exchanged texts confirming getting together on New Year’s Eve, the entire evening they had spent together seemed like a distant dream to her. It had been so unexpected and delightful that her whole perspective on the elder Holmes brother had been turned on its head.

How could it be that the distant and cool Mycroft Holmes had reached out to her, looked into her eyes and charmed her silly over the course of one short week? They had had fun, for goodness sake. Mycroft Holmes and fun just did not make sense before that night but it certainly did now. He was smart and playful and wry and even cute in his buttoned up way. Could it have been the wine and the holiday cheer that made her look at him in a different way or had he been there all along, eclipsed by his flashier younger brother? She laughed softly to herself thinking of the Christmas texts from Sherlock, her sadly underutilized mistletoe and Mycroft Holmes’ spicy scent and soft lips.  She could go for more of that, oh yes she could. Smiling broadly, she turned back to her paperwork trying to regain focus.

There was a quick knock on the door of her office and before she could respond it opened and her colleague Melanie stood smirking at her, a large bouquet of deep pink old English roses in her hands. “Well, the mysterious M.H. has struck again, this time with two dozen roses. Cookies you say? I think you need to share more than your recipes with me.” She walked over and set the roses on Molly’s desk. “So, are you going to open the card?”

Molly blushed to the roots of her hair, looked chagrined and plucked the envelope from the bouquet.

 _“_ _How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss and all was said._ _”_

_For sweet Molly, not my words but those of Victor Hugo, a man who knew what was important in life._

_Looking forward-_

_M.H._

Molly’s blush deepened and she looked up at Melanie with a giddy grin. “Oh my…” she sighed and extended the card for Melanie to read.

Melanie’s eyes widened and she too broke into a wide grin. “Holy cow, who is this guy? Well read, well-heeled and hot for you obviously. Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother?” Melanie shook her head as she went out the door. “Some people have all the luck. But seriously Molls, enjoy it. If anyone deserves a nice guy it’s you.”

Molly’s face softened in gratitude at her friend’s kind words. “Thanks, Mel. He is a good man but we haven’t even had a proper date yet, just dinner at my house. We’ll see where it goes.”

Melanie winked at her as the door closed. “Yes, we’ll see, all right. Looks quite promising to me though. I expected a full, if partially edited report on Tuesday.” 

Molly turned back to her paperwork but not before reading the note one more time and burying her face in the heady scent of the roses. Wow, oh wow…

She picked up her mobile, snapped a photo of the roses and sent it and a quick text.

_The flowers are lovely and so are your words. Thank you and I’ll see you Sunday night._

_xxxx_

Smiling, she returned to her work though she wasn’t sure how much she was going to get done. She was really looking forward to seeing Mycroft Holmes again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mycroft glanced down at his mobile for what seemed to Anthea to be the twentieth time today. He put it down again and finally decided to grace her with his undivided attention. She had just opened her mouth to report on the Danish ambassador’s domestic problem (an under-aged and over-sexed maid threatening blackmail) when his mobile finally chimed. He picked it up, read the message and as he did, a smile unlike one she had ever seen crept over his face. His eyes lit up and he almost grinned, his pale face flushing so slightly that only she could have noticed. What on earth was going on? Whatever it was it was far more interesting than an old goat of an ambassador.

Feigning a casual interest, she cut her eyes at him. “So, what is so scintillating in that message that it almost completely thaws your regular charming demeanor? Have you taken up with yet another frustrated parliament member’s wife?  Remember the last time. It did not end well.”

Mycroft looked up from his mobile with an affronted look. “I admit to making several ill-considered, if highly satisfying decisions in the past though it is somewhat below you to bring them up just to obtain information.  However, you are making the wrong assumption. I have a date for New Year’s Eve, she is of an appropriate age and she is single. I also, surprisingly, think I like her very much and hope she likes me.”

“Likes you? How quaint.” Anthea rolled her eyes. “Are you taking her to the cotillion or some other droll entertainment? Has her mummy given her permission to date an old shark like you?”

Mycroft’s eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know you were having me on I might be angry at you right now. Please cease and desist.”

“Touchy, touchy, touchy...” Anthea shook her head. “She must be quite the woman to have caught and held your attention. So, who is she?”

Mycroft drew himself up in his chair, lifted his chin and met her eyes. “It’s Molly Hooper, Sherlock’s friend from St. Bart’s.”

Anthea, noted for her control in any situation, was floored and then started laughing. “You must be joking…that little stuttering nub of a girl who can barely string more than three words together? She of the appalling striped jumpers and beyond odd stretch pants? Please say it isn’t true.”

Mycroft sat back with a thoughtful look on his face. “She baked me cookies and then invited me to Christmas dinner. Do you know how long it’s been since a woman treated me like a regular person? We had a lovely evening, she made me happy and I want to see her again.  She is intelligent, witty and once she calms down enough, a fine conversationalist. She excels at her job and is highly respected in her field. She also has an open and giving heart and was willing to reach out to someone who had previously intimidated and marginalized her. I surprisingly find her superior to most women of my acquaintance, present company excepted.”

Anthea laughed, reached over the table and patted his hand. “Thank you for that and I’m sorry if my reaction insulted you. She must have hidden charms if she has seduced you to the point you’ve asked her out on a proper date. Baked you cookies, did she?  Perhaps it’s a method I may put into my portfolio if it has proven so effective. Well, maybe not.” She chuckled to herself and held up a finely manicured hand, the dark red polish glittering in the light. “It might ruin my nails and no man, or woman, for that matter, is worth that. However, do keep me updated. I find myself intrigued.”

Mycroft nodded and gave her a wry grin. “Duly noted. Now, have you finished with your examination of my personal life and shall we get back to work? The Danish ambassador is in quite a pickle and only the best minds in the British Government can save him from his foibles.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Molly woke up on Saturday morning knowing that she had to go shopping and dreading it. She had nothing in her wardrobe even remotely suitable for a night out with someone as elegant and put together as Mycroft Holmes. The green dress she had worn for Christmas was the only half decent and remotely appropriate dress she owned. Her hand flicked through the choices in her closet and inadvertently settled on _that_ dress…black stretch velvet with silver trim. She had thought it was so cute in the store but it now carried unfortunate memories of Sherlock and her painfully desperate crush.  He had apologized to her after his clueless and mean-spirited holiday gaff but her Christmas spirit had been seriously dampened that year. Well, thank goodness that was over with and safe in the past. What a git, at least his big brother had manners.

She finished dressing and looked out her window at the lovely day. One more cup of tea and some granola and yogurt to fortify her and off she would go. Toby jumped up on the table and trilled inn her face. “Yes, I know you need more wet food and yes, I know you have been very patient with me this week as I have been past forgetful. I don’t suppose you want to go with me to find a dress?” Toby jumped off the table and wound around her ankles. “All right, I guess not but I will pick up food for you anyway on my way home.”

She rose, grabbed her purse, coat and scarf and dashed down her stairs to face the shops and the vague dream of finding the perfect dress. Please god, let it happen and let it be relatively stress free, she thought to herself.  I cannot come home with nothing but cat food. 

******

Four hours later, her feet were on fire; she had visited at least five shops and was no closer to finding a dress than she had been at dawn. The shops were mad with after-Christmas bargain hunters and the stock was thin. Nothing was working for her and the dresses she had tried on were either too tight, too loose or an unbecoming color. She had even tried some of the more exclusive and expensive shops to no avail.  She was doomed and would have to recycle the green dress or another from her closet. 

She sat in a café with her feet up on the chair opposite. It was still a lovely day and it was hours until dark. The yogurt and granola she had eaten that morning was long gone so a glass of wine and a nice lunch was next on the agenda. She had just finished and tossed back the last of her wine when she noticed a long, black car at the curb.  Mycroft? No, it was a just a car as there was no reason he would have tracked her down unless there had been word from Sherlock. She left the café and as she walked past the car the window slid down.

“Miss Hooper, it has come to my attention that you are in search of a dress. Perhaps I can help? I do have a bit of an insider perspective on what may please.” Anthea leaned forward in her seat and offered Molly a slightly uncomfortable smile.

Molly looked at the always put together Anthea with suspicion. She had only seen the woman once or twice, always in Mycroft’s wake and always picture perfect in her high heels and fashion forward suits. They had never spoken and Molly had no idea why Anthea was bothering with her now.

“Uh, no thank you, Anthea. I’m sure I will find something soon and if not, I will just make do with what I have. It was very nice of you to take an interest though I am sure I cannot fathom why.” Molly was trying to think the best but could not help wondering what Anthea was up to.  Wasn’t this behavior a bit cozy even for the odd world of the British Government? Had Anthea been spying on them? Molly blushed at the very idea.

“Molly, please get in to talk for just a moment.  If after we talk, you still wish to go on alone, that will be perfectly all right with me. All I ask is that you hear me out. Please?”

Anthea looked sincere and so Molly reluctantly got into the back of the car. She sat uncomfortably looking at the woman who had obviously been following her. “What’s this all about? Are you really trying to be nice to me or are you trying to ruin my date with Mycroft? If you are trying to help and are sincere, I would be glad of it.  If you are trying to warn me off of Mycroft, you would be wasting your breath. I like him and I want to go out with him and I don’t really care what you think.” Molly raised her chin and looked hard at Anthea. “So, which is it? “

Anthea started to laugh. “You like him…oh for goodness sake; he was telling me the truth.” Molly looked at her puzzled. “Mycroft said those very same words to me earlier this week and I had a hard time believing him. I also had a hard time believing what on earth he could possibly see in you.”

Molly looked insulted and her hand was instantly on the car door. “Did you invite me in here to insult me or help me? I know I am a bit silly, I dress badly and I am sure I am not his typical choice for companionship but maybe that’s good. He seems lonely, I’m lonely and we enjoy each other’s company. Why do you people have to make everything so complicated? We are going on a date not negotiating a treaty.”

Anthea reached out and gently touched her arm. “I am sorry Miss Hooper; I did not mean to hurt your feelings. It is just that this is so unexpected and so unlikely it has me back on my heels. You seem sincere and I am very much relieved. I care deeply for Mycroft, we have worked together a long time and he has been very good to me in his way.  I wanted to make sure you were not playing some sort of sick game by using him to get closer to Sherlock.” Molly’s eyebrows went up and she looked shocked. “I know, not a very nice thought but we work with a lot of not very nice people in our world and I had to make sure. I know Mycroft can take care of himself but I would hate to have him hurt when he seems so happy to have found someone he genuinely cares about.” 

Anthea’s words soothed Molly somewhat but she was still wary. “So, what’s in this for you? Why do you want to help me shop for clothes?”

Anthea looked thoughtful and studied her perfect nails. “It’s the holidays and I guess I want to do something nice for someone. You seem to be struggling with clothing choices and I thought you might like some guidance.  I know fashion and it’s a skill that can be learned. We are both very good at our jobs and have complimentary interests, perhaps we might become friends? If you can date Mycroft in spite of your considerable differences perhaps you have a bit more room in your world for me?  I am so bad once you get to know me.”

“All right, I will trust you in spite of my reservations.” Molly smiled tentatively at Anthea. “I don’t know if we’ll ever be best mates but one can never have enough women friends.”

“Excellent. Shall we?” Molly nodded and Anthea directed her driver and the big, black car pulled out into traffic.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Molly was ready. She had spent the day picking up her flat, watching holiday shows on the telly and periodically twitching with anticipation. Toby, his wet food obtained and gobbled, had picked up on her mood and was tearing around the flat knocking books off table and being a general nuisance. Whenever Molly felt her nerves come up, she buried her face in the delicious scent of the pink roses and felt better. Mycroft would be picking her up at 6 PM and all she knew was that they would be having dinner and then going somewhere to watch the big fireworks show over the Thames. Molly had always loved the fireworks and crowds of enthusiastic revelers crowding the streets but she had half frozen several times and getting back home afterwards had always been a challenge. Nothing like a big, black car and a driver to solve at least one of those issues.

Mycroft had texted her mid-morning.

_Looking forward to tonight. Will pick you up at six._

_M.H._

She smiled down at her phone and tried to contain her excitement. Mustn’t seem too eager or she would scare him off. Too eager indeed... Just how many times this week had she imagined taking off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt and snogging him breathless? Molly had thought of little else and her libido was humming in high gear. She wondered if it was the way he smelled? There might be something to this pheromone thing after all. Sherlock smelled divine but he had never wound her up this badly. She felt like she was on fire and was sure her blazing desire was going to show in her face. Must exercise at least some control or she would freak him out. Down girl! Text him back and take a cold shower!

_Looking forward to seeing you too._

_xxxx_

_M.H._

That at least had sounded sane. One cold shower coming right up, she laughed to herself as she put down her mobile.

The shopping trip with Anthea had been a bit daunting at first with Anthea steering her towards highly structured dresses and outlandishly high heels.  However, Molly recognized that Anthea had an innate sense of cut and color and line and dresses that had looked horrific on the rack had looked very good on Molly. By the end of the afternoon, Molly had a sleek new dress, some conservative but elegant shoes and a lovely new evening bag. Anthea had pushed for a new coat but Molly had had enough for one day. She would wear her vintage winter coat with a new scarf that picked up the color of her dress. The women stopped for a drink before Anthea dropped Molly at her flat. Surprisingly after the initial chill had worn off, Molly had actually enjoyed Anthea’s company. Maybe they could be friends but only time would tell. Go figure, thought Molly as she put up her hair in a loose French roll and put on her make up.

Anthea had briefly squeezed her hand before Molly left the car. “Here’s my card. I have written my personal e-mail on the back.  If you want to go out sometime, send me an e-mail or text and we’ll make a plan.  Good luck tomorrow night and I hope you both have fun.” Anthea then looked slightly uncomfortable. “Could you please e-mail a few of your cookie recipes? They seem to have a remarkable effect on men and I thought I might have a go. Nothing ventured, nothing gained?” She looked at her long nails and sighed. “I guess I could wear rubber gloves?” She shook her head, Molly laughed and the women parted. What an amusing and strange afternoon all thanks to Mycroft Holmes and an impetuous and risky Christmas dinner invite on Molly’s part.  Life could indeed change in the breadth of an instant, how nice for her.

She took her dress out of the protective garment bag and studied it. It was a deceptively simple sheath in a beautiful shade of teal. It had odd darts that extended from the side and shoulder seams that accentuated her small waist and a petite stature. The neckline was conservative but cut low enough to show just a whisper of breast. Falling just above the knee it lengthened her body and was proportionately perfect. It was also quite comfortable and with the moderate heels, it would be perfect. A far cry from her black and silver number and ten times more attractive. She knew a great thrift shop that donated most of its revenue to help economically challenged women. It was time she exorcised the past from her closet and turned it into something positive and the cursed black dress would be the first thing to go. Not working for her indeed. Several more items could go as well and she found herself looking forward to shopping again, armed with her new found fashion knowledge thanks to Anthea. It just took work and patience like most things in life.     

Dressed now, she studied herself in the full length mirror. The dress fit her like a glove and looked wonderful with her pearls. It was amazing. The length made her look taller and it’s intricate and deceptively simple cut accentuated her delicate curves. The color was truly lovely and made her skin glow and eye color snap. She still looked like herself which was a relief but a self she had not formerly been acquainted with. She definitely needed to go out shopping with Anthea again after a much needed closet purge and trip to the thrift store. She was still nervy about this date but she was sure Mycroft would approve of her clothes. She snapped a quick photo in the mirror and texted it to Anthea.

_Thanks again for your help today. I love the dress and I couldn’t have done it without you._

There was a brief pause and Molly’s mobile chimed.

_It was fun and we will have to do it again sometime. You look amazing so stop twitching. Have fun tonight. I will be thinking of you._

Molly smiled to herself, how odd and wonderful; a potential boyfriend and a fashion advisor all in one week.  Who ever said that miracles couldn’t happen?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Mycroft sat in the back of the car as it sped towards Molly’s flat and fretted. Few people knew this about him except for Sherlock, but he fretted constantly. Only iron control and years of experience had made him appear as calm and unruffled as he did to the world. Key word: appeared. He was a maelstrom inside of lightning fast thought, nervous energy and fierce emotions. He leaned his head back against the soft leather upholstery and let out a deep breath. Things had gone very well last week and though he had planned this evening carefully, he was unsure if she would be pleased. Stop second guessing yourself, you old fool, he thought to himself. She was kind and seemed to genuinely enjoy his company, what more could one ask for in a companion? He only hoped that this was just the first of many future dates. Only time would tell.

The car pulled up to the curb and after giving his driver instructions, he carefully pickled his way across the slick sidewalk to Molly’s outer door. He glanced up at her windows and saw a flick of the sheers. She had seen the car and knew he was here. Faint heart never won fair lady he thought as he entered and took hold of the bannister. He took the stairs two at a time shaking his head at his excitement and anticipation. Stop grinning like an idiot and don’t appear too eager, it does not become you and will scare her off. Are you 43 or 15?  Exercise some control. Just because he wanted to grab her, tear her clothes off, bury his face between her breasts and make wicked and violent love to her should have no bearing on this date. Oh dear, think about dead kittens or you will never be able to take your coat off.  Reaching her door, he took a deep breath, focused his energy and knocked.

She opened the door. She looked…Well, like Molly Hooper but not like any Molly Hooper he had seen before. Her eyes sparkled and her dress, though conservative, left very little to the imagination. The fabric shimmered slightly in the lights and the color was exquisite. Her hair was up and he was struck by the delicacy of her neck and the graceful line of her jaw. He cocked his head. “You have outdone yourself, Miss Hooper, you look beautiful.” He took her hand a raised it to his lips.

Molly blushed furiously. “Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I do have a confession to make though. I would not have been able to put this look together without Anthea’s help. That woman definitely knows fashion,”

Mycroft’s eyebrows went up. “Anthea?  How on earth?”

Molly eyes sparkled and silenced him with a wave of her hand. “It’s a long story and I shall tell you over dinner but she is definitely a life saver.”

Mycroft nodded, curious but willing to wait. “Shall we?” he said, taking Molly’s coat of the hook next to the door where it hung with her new silk scarf. Molly allowed him to help her with her coat giving him an opportunity to appreciate the line of her neck and the soft scent of freesia that wafted from her hair. Goodness, he was definitely a goner.

She took his arm and together they descended the stairs, got into the long, black car and made for the heart of London.

******

Molly glanced across the back seat at the man sitting next to her. He was elegant in his black camel’s hair topcoat and plaid scarf. She glimpsed the soft grey of his trousers and was looking forward to him removing his coat at the restaurant. She didn’t know many men who dressed as well as Mycroft and Sherlock but she thought Mycroft had one up on his more traditionally handsome brother in this area. Sherlock was more cutting edge and modern but Mycroft had captured traditional and pushed it just enough to be interesting. Somehow he had been born to wear tailored suits and Molly Hooper was a sucker for fine tailoring. Must have been all those Lord Peter Wimsey novels she had read when she was young.

She studied his profile in the darkness. No, he wasn’t really handsome but his face had great character. She had seen him several times in the morgue, usually with Sherlock. She had observed him carefully out of innate curiosity and had found him alternately controlled, ice cold, bitingly sarcastic or dangerously powerful. She had never dreamed that his face could soften and warmth could reach his eyes. She had never remotely dreamed that he would ever look at her with such a face.

She smiled to herself and reached across the car seat to take his hand. So warm… He smiled back at her gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Even this brief touch was electric. This was going to be some New Year’s Eve

******

The restaurant was quiet and exclusive, a serene bubble far above the madness of central London on New Year’s Eve. The Thames ran like a black ribbon through the glittering lights of the city and the view was amazing. The only sounds in the restaurant were the subdued hum of conversations, the clink of glassware and soft jazz piano playing in the lounge. Molly had caught several admiring glances from other men on the way in but she had seemed oblivious, eyes only for him. The food had been delightful and the conversation more so. Once they had settled into their seats, admired the view and ordered, they both had a glass of wine and admitted to their nerves. Laughing at their mutual foolishness, they drank more wine, their tongues loosened and they relaxed. The Anthea story had been shared and Mycroft was relieved that the topic had been fashion as opposed to him and his bad habits.

 

The hours passed quickly and conversation ebbed and flowed comfortably.  At the end of the meal, they rose, Mycroft’s hand at the small of Molly’s back. “I do hope you like our next stop. It’s not far and has an excellent view of the fireworks.” They left the restaurant and crossed to the lift. The doors opened, Mycroft quickly entered a code into the control panel but instead of going down to street level the lift started up. Molly raised her eyebrows and looked questioningly at Mycroft.

“I have private rooms here and though it is not my favorite place in London, it suits me well when I am in the city center. It also has one of the best views of the fireworks without the press of the crowds on street level.” He paused and looked carefully at Molly. “You won’t be disappointed to miss the crowds and excitement, will you? I can always call the car and we can join the throng.”  

Molly looked shyly up at him. “It sounds delightful. The worst things about the fireworks are the crowds and trying to get in and out of the city center. Also, freezing with the wind blowing up one’s dress after midnight is no real treat. Warm, sheltered and private sounds very good to me but thank you for asking.” Beyond good, she thought to herself if I get to snuggle up to you in that gorgeous wool jacket.

The lift doors opened into a broad foyer that opened directly into a great room. Molly inadvertently gasped as she found herself drawn into the room and right up to the floor to ceiling windows. It was as if they were floating above London. “Wow, oh wow. This is spectacular.” The suite was very modern but without too many harsh surfaces. The color scheme was neutral but elegant and a think wool plush carpet covered the floors accented here and there with slate tiles. A fire burned in a glass and stone fireplace, warming the room and casting its flickering glow across the ceiling.

Mycroft took her coat and tossed it carelessly along with his own on a nearby sofa.  “It is a grand view. Let’s have a drink. We will need our coats in a bit as I thought you might like to go out on the terrace at least for a while when the show starts. It is a bit windy up here but I promise I will keep you warm.” He smiled suggestively at her and she blushed, suddenly shy.

He held out his hand to her. “Time to pop some champagne and make ourselves comfortable.” She took his hand and he led her into the kitchen. It was all shiny marble and frosted glass with pristinely empty counters. He opened the giant refrigerator and then looked at her, slightly embarrassed. Two bottles of very expensive champagne stood lonely sentinel over plate of cheeses and French bread. “I don’t stay here much and have no staff on hand to cook. I usually eat out if I am forced to stay downtown.”

Molly laughed and stood up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Looks fine to me. How about opening a bottle, the fireworks are just about to begin.” Mycroft turned before she could stand back and took her in his arms. “You look just fine to me too, Miss Hooper.” He looked down into her smiling face and gave her the softest of kisses. She responded in kind and they stood that way for a few long moments before Mycroft broke it off and gestured to a cupboard. “Flutes in there. Bring them out to the great room and put on your coat.  I will uncork the bottle and be with you in a moment.”

Moly stepped back out into the great room, put the two flutes down on an end table and stood looking at the view. Less than five minutes to midnight. She heard the distinctive pop of a champagne cork in the kitchen, picked up her coat and scarf and put them on just as Mycroft came in with the open bottle. She picked up the flutes and smiled in anticipation. Her eyes sparkled and her excitement was palpable. He too put on his coat and together they passed through a floor to ceiling sliding glass door out onto a wide terrace. The wind was light but cold and Mycroft poured them two glasses of the sparkling wine just as the first bursts of fireworks lit the sky. They lifted their glasses in a toast.

“Happy New Year, Mycroft.” She smiled up at him through her lashes.

“Happy New Year, Molly.”  Hs fingers grazed her cheek and she nuzzled into his hand,

The champagne was just what champagne should be; light, effervescent and dry. Starlight in a glass. Molly licked her lips and took another sip. This was very good and would definitely go right to her head.  How wonderful…

Glass in hand, Mycroft joined Molly at the edge of the terrace, taking her in his arms from the back and surrounding her with warmth.  The shelter of the terrace railing blocked the wind from her legs and so she was quite comfortable. Mycroft’s face nestled next to hers and she felt his warm breath in her ear as they watched in wonder one of the best New Years’ eve fireworks displays on earth. There was light and noise and beautiful bursts of light and from far below the delight of the crowds that swarmed central London and the banks of the Thames rose up to reach them. She tightened her grip on Mycroft’s hands as they stood wrapped together under a cold, clear January sky.  How could the start of the New Year be any better than this?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Thoroughly chilled and slightly tipsy from the champagne, Molly and Mycroft re-entered the suite after the last grand fireworks finale. As the brilliant bursts lit the sky, Mycroft turned to her and pulled her to him.  The kiss they shared was deep and thrilling and Molly felt breathless as they dashed inside to get warm. The glass door whispered shut behind them, coats were shed and the now nearly empty champagne bottle traded out for another. Molly was certainly glad she had tomorrow off.

Mycroft turned to a console on the wall. A few buttons were pushed and soft music rose from several hidden speakers; lush piano, soft and sensual. He dimmed the lights and the fire flickered warmly reflecting off the glass windows and lighting the space with an amber glow.

“Dance with me.” he whispered in her ear. Taking her in his arms they swayed to the music, eyes only for each other. His body was warm and she found herself leaning into him as they danced. He smiled down at her. “So, how was our second date, Miss Hooper? I didn’t make you a chocolate torte but I hope you had a good time tonight.”

“Oh yes, I had a delightful time Mr. Holmes. However, I may feel cheated should dessert not be forthcoming…” She grinned up into his face to tease him further, was about to say something else but his expression silenced her and made her catch her breath. He stopped and held her, his body just inches from hers. His face was slightly flushed and his lips parted. His eyes were like a dark storm as he pulled her to him. So close, so warm, so strong. She felt tiny in his embrace and pressed herself into him, wanting to be closer than the dance permitted.

He pulled her down onto a couch, leaned her back into the soft upholstery and kissed her. His hands were everywhere and she arched her back and pressed herself against him as he caressed her through her clothes. Clothes…too many clothes. She reached for his tie and then she paused, suddenly serious, looking up into his face.

“All right?” She asked softly, looking shy but feeling anything but. He looked at her tenderly. “All right but only if you promise to stay to have breakfast with me tomorrow.” She smiled her luminous smile, this time just for him. “I will, please kiss me again.”

He kissed her again long and slow and this time when she reached for his tie, she did not hesitate and very soon it was on the floor along with his beautiful jacket.  She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands through the soft hair on his chest. She loved body hair and his was perfect, rising in a widening bloom from the waist of his trousers up his chest. He moaned under her hands and she buried her face into his bare skin, inhaling deeply and drinking in his glorious scent. His body was surprisingly muscular in spite of his slim frame. Not fat at all she thought abstractly as her hands traced up the back of his thighs.

He ran a hand up her inner thigh to the juncture of her legs and this time it was her turn to moan and arch her pelvis into his waiting hand. She wanted him, oh dear lord, she wanted him and it wasn’t just the champagne talking. “Oh,” she sighed, “Yes, please yes.”

Mycroft stilled, pulled her close and purred in her ear. “I think it’s time to change venues. All right?” She nodded and he rose, taking her hand and pulling her up. “You are so lovely in that dress but now it’s time for me to take it off. Would you like that, Molly?” She nodded, kissed him again and his hand came up to the nape of her neck and slowly drew the zipper down, grazing her bare back with his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt like she was coming out of her skin.

He kissed her again, relishing her taste and the exquisite torture of her touch. He closed his eyes and thanked whatever holiday god had deigned to bring them together. Holding each other close, they slipped from the room, music still playing. Only her discarded shoes and his jacket and tie were left as mute witness on the floor.

******

Mycroft woke to the chime of his mobile. Good Christ, it was 3:00 A.M. it had better not be Sherlock. He rolled over carefully as not to wake Molly.

_Have a good time?_

He smiled to himself and sent a quick and succinct reply.

_Very. Nice dress…_

_We will talk._

_M.H._

******

 

It was Tuesday morning and Molly was busy working in the morgue, her ear buds in as she listened to her favorite romantic tunes. She just couldn’t stop smiling and Melanie had glance meaningfully at her as their shift started, her look saying that Molly had better tell her everything on their first break. Molly shrugged. She would tell Melanie just enough and no more.  She wanted to keep most of the delights of New Years’ eve for herself alone.  My god, what a man. He had seemed tireless and had thoroughly worn her out. She still felt loose limbed and sated from their night together. Could she have some more, please?

She and Mycroft indeed had breakfast after a suitably long snuggle in his giant bed. She wore one of his dressing gowns to breakfast, the neckline slipping and hem down to the floor, much to his delight and her chagrin. Thus distracted, he had insisted they go back to bed and she had not objected. Eventually she dressed again in the beautiful teal dress, her hair now loose around her face and he saw her home that afternoon, leaving her with a lingering kiss and a promise in his eyes. She was so gone on Mycroft Holmes it wasn’t even funny.

The morning passed quickly and her break was coming up. She noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Melanie through the lab window.  She was waving and pointing and jumping up and down.  Molly unplugged her ear buds, looked around confused and stood stock still when she saw him. He was in full Mycroft mode in a glorious blue chalk striped suit and paisley tie and pocket square. He had his umbrella hooked casually in the crook on one arm and in the other hand he held a single, perfect rose. His eyes saw nothing but her and the expression on his face made her weak with desire. Her face blazed and she walked up to him where he was waiting, silent just inside the lab door. He held out the rose to her, her eyes filled, she took the flower, inhaled its sweet and spicy scent and walked straight into his arms, not caring who was watching.

Unseen but seeing everything, Melanie took out her mobile and madly started snapping photos. Should she?  Nah, video would be way too much.  Molly might hate her at first but not after she saw the pictures. Holy cow indeed!

  
 _I can see your world, beautiful and new_  
 _And although I'm not sure where it's leading to_  
 _We will travel on, our fate unknown_  
 _And for once I know I'm not alone_  
  
_It's a trade we make, a sacrifice_  
 _Love never ending is surely worth the price_  
 _If we survive, love holds no greater price_  
 _You can see forever in a lover's eyes_

_Jim Brickman – Music and Lyrics_


End file.
